


Taking Back My Life

by DontKillBugs



Series: Lena: Healing a Little Every Day [2]
Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Misgendering, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Trans Male Character, WE GOT GAY TRANS DUCKS, au where magica is dead and lena is still corporeal, bonding over being trans, but who cares, gay ducks, if you read his books thoroughly you might guess why, in that lena is misgendered exactly once in a dream, lena gets the happy ending she deserves, lena has ptsd and depression and probs anxiety too, lena is a trans girl, lena-scrooge bonding, magica is a shitty shitty aunt, magica is dead, scrooge is a trans man, trans positivity, which will probably invalidate this whole story, with apologies to joe hill, written before the season finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 12:32:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15685497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DontKillBugs/pseuds/DontKillBugs
Summary: Sequel to With The Hand Of My Best Friend. Written prior to the Season 1 finale. A week after the Shadow War and Magica's death, Lena has moved into McDuck Manor, and is blissfully in love with Webby. However, with a long road ahead of her, Lena finds herself sharing a pot of tea with Scrooge early one morning.





	Taking Back My Life

_"You should have done as you were told, Lena."_

_Lena thrashed feebly, floating weightlessly in the Space Between Spaces. The shadowy mass that was once her aunt held Webby firmly in its grasp. With a cackle, volts of magic channeled through the mass and into Webby, who was instantly replaced with a very familiar doll._

_Lena opened her mouth to scream, to yell, to do anything, but suddenly, the air fled from her lungs. Clutching her neck, struggling to breathe, she felt her beak dislodge itself from her face, the two pieces floating uselessly away into the void. The bottom of her face was now a featureless, white blank._

_Magica, impossibly, grinned at her, dwarfing Lena with her size. "This is what happens to stupid little **nephews** who don't listen, Lena."  The Webby doll suddenly burst into flame, shriveling into ashes, yet its eyes stayed, staring into Lena's with silent judgement._

_A sudden pressure tightened around Lena's left wrist. Her hand suddenly shattered, the pieces of herself floating like so much broken pieces of a china plate. Lena felt herself rocketing backward, Magica getting further and further away, until the Webby dolls eyes vanished into the fog of the void, until there was only Lena, broken and dying, until until until until_

until Lena sat straight up in her bed, a waking scream dying in her throat.

She sat there, breathing frantically, tears in her eyes, her body shaking.

"It's okay... it's okay... she's okay..."

Her breathing began to slow. Lena suddenly became aware of the familiar ache in her left hand. She looked down, and realized her hand was half-clenched within the cast. She loosened her fingers, her breathing slower and deeper now.

"Magica's dead. She's dead, she's dead, she's dead and she's never coming back."

She glanced at the clock on her nightstand. Her pants turned to an exasperated groan as she read the time. It was 6:32 in the morning. Too late to try to go back to sleep, too early to be up. The ache of her slowly healing arm had kept her up most of the night already, tossing and turning, and when she finally had fallen asleep, the Stupid Stupid Recurring Nightmare had woken her yet again. Under her, she felt the sheets, cold and wet with her own sleep sweat.

From her spot on the bed, she could see out the window, overlooking the front courtyard of McDuck Manor. Although Donald's wrecked houseboat had been removed since the day of Magica's attack, the scorch marks from the magical battle remained, including the large one left by the portal. From what Lena knew of magic, those scorches were unlikely to come off anytime soon, if ever. As part of her training, Magica had once shown Lena a place where an extremely powerful spell had backfired on its caster. The grass would never grow there again. Magica had likely intended it as motivational, a demonstration of magic's might. Lena had only found it sickening.

Lena swung her legs to the side, sliding out of the bed. Normally, she was loathe to leave it, it being the plushest, comfiest bed she had ever slept in, but there was no getting back to sleep at this point. She cracked her bedroom door open, peering down the enormous hall of McDuck Manor. At this time of morning, everything was still silent. Duckworth was probably somewhere- ghosts didn't sleep- but Lena had no desire to run into the spectral butler and deal with him trying to make polite conversation.

Lena made her way down the hall, her bare webbed feet muffled by the carpet. She knew the way to Webby's room by heart, no matter how much she still got lost in this mansion.

Lena couldn't help smiling as she thought of her girlfriend. The memory of the tearful confession in the hospital room a week ago (and Webby's blushing, stuttering confession back) still brought a dopey grin to Lena's face. The two had been inseparable since then. It was made all the better by Scrooge. When he learned that Lena was basically homeless, Scrooge had made several phone calls, and was holding the paperwork to make Lena his ward before the day was out. Lena had put up a modest protest, but Scrooge had insisted.

_"It's the least I can do, after you saved me niece." Scrooge had smiled, although Lena didn't miss how his eyes flickered to Beakley, sitting in the corner, nor how she and Webby had flinched ever so slightly. Scrooge pressed on with "You saved her, and ye vanquished yer aunt and saved Duckburg. I'd be remiss as a person if I let ye go to sleep in a gutter after that."_

So now she was Scrooge's charity case- _No._ She squashed that poisonous thought as soon as it arose.

_No more of that. I'm here because they want me here. Magica was wrong, and they want me here, and she's dead forever, so neener-neener._

She arrived at the door to Webby's room, and stopped, resting her forehead against the cool wood. Though Beakley was more than supportive of the two of them, she had insisted on separate rooms, at least until they were much older. Through the door, she could just barely hear Webby's gentle snoring. It was such a cute sound, and Lena always treasured hearing it.

_I love her. I'm so in love with her. And she loves me back. She makes me so happy it hurts, and Magica can never take that away from me._

Lena considered opening the door to take a peek, but decided against it. The first time she had tried that, she had wound up on her back, rug burns on the backs of her legs, Webby standing over her with a suction dart pistol leveled at her face. She had apologized almost instantly, and Lena had forgiven her long ago- she knew it was Webby's freaky hyper-awareness that kicked that off, not anything personal.

Webby had been almost constantly at Lena's side since Magica's attack. It felt almost alien to Lena, after having only Magica in her life for so long. When they had gotten back from Duckburg General, Lena and Webby had gone up to Webby's room, and Lena had seen Webby's Quacky Patch doll, the pink one, speared to the wall by a crossbow bolt. She had seen it a dozen times before, but this time, due in no small part to the doll's resemblance to Doll Webby from the Stupid Stupid Recurring Nightmare, Lena had found herself on the floor, hyperventilating and unable to speak.

 _And that's what a panic attack feels like_ , Lena thought to herself. It had taken a solid hour and a half to come back down from that, with Webby's help. An hour and a half of being curled up behind a chair, her head in Webby's lap, screaming and weeping into a blanket. Eventually, Lena had been able, between sobs and hiccups, to tell Webby about her nightmare she had had while under the influence of the cursed dreamcatcher in the Other Bin. Webby had gotten rid of the Quacky Patch doll without a word. Lena hadn't seen the thing since.

And now, as a result, Lena had two therapists to see instead of one: Doctor Featherweight, for the nerve damage in her hand; and Doc Curmudgeon, for her PTSD. That had taken some convincing and cajoling from Webby, but she had finally won Lena over. Lena started therapy with Curmudgeon on Tuesday, right after her appointment with Featherweight.

Lena slid the left sleeve of her new pajamas up to reveal her cast. She gently wedged her right fingertips down into the cast, scratching an itch. She winced as the nerve pain spiked- _better get used to that, girl-_ and set off down the corridor again. She had to admit, after who knew how many years of waking up under bridges and in drainpipes, it was downright heavenly to be able to wake up in a house, much less the nicest mansion in Duckburg.

She gazed down at her cast, covered with signatures. Huey, Dewey, and Louie, Scrooge, Donald, Beakley. And in the center, more recently, hers and Webby's names, written inside a heart. It was so sappy Lena could barf, but she loved it so much.

Lena found herself at the glass door to the back patio. Sliding it open, she stepped out onto the cool brick overlooking the backyard, which was several acres on its own. Drops of dew clung to the freshly cut grass, shimmering in the light of the rising sun. Cool spring air blew gently against her face. On her right, an early-riser bumblebee bonked repeatedly into a large sunflower at the edge of the flower garden.

A familiar thick brogue from her left. "Mornin', lass."

Lena turned. Scrooge sat at a glass-topped table, still in his bathrobe. A teapot sat on the table, along with a small pitcher of milk. A teacup sat on a saucer, steam rising gently from the top. Scrooge gently raised the teacup in Lena's direction, a good-morning toast.

"Hey there, Scrooge."

Scrooge chuckled. "Took Webby years to stop callin' me Mr. McDuck, and you've dispensed with it right out of the gate. I knew ye'd be fine." He motioned to the other chair at the patio table. "Care to join me?"

Lena thought for a moment, then smiled. "Y'know what? Sure." She plopped herself down in the patio chair.

Scrooge produced a second teacup from nowhere. "Do ye like tea?"

Lena shrugged. "I have no strong opinions on it one way or another."

"Well then ye won't mind if I pour ye a cup," Scrooge added, already doing so. "Feel free tae hate it, I've found that tea isn't for everyone."

Lena took a sip of the nutmeg tea, raised an eyebrow, thinking it over, then reached for the milk pitcher and poured some in (Scrooge very specifically did not verbalize the fact that she was using far more than one drop. The lass had been ordered around and criticized enough by her wretched demonspawn of an aunt.)

The two sat in silence, enjoying the morning air. In the distance, a sparrow began singing.

Scrooge spoke up. "Why're ye up so early?"

Lena shrugged. "Couldn't sleep." Scrooge nodded, accepting her answer. Lena leaned back in her deck chair. "What about you?"

Scrooge shrugged. "Waitin' on Launchpad. Had him take the _Sunchaser_ to pick up another load of lumber for the repairs. Plus I don't sleep much as it is. Creaky old bones, and all that." He mimed some jerky movements, like a cartoon skeleton. Lena chuckled.

"How ye been holdin' up?"

"Comparatively? A lot better. I've got my first therapy session on Tuesday. I get to go to some uptight doctor's office and sit on his couch while he tries to be my friend."

"He's there tae help ye, lass. What's the worst he can do to ye?"

Lena stared. "In all honesty? Not believe a word I say, use his medical authority to have me declared insane and have me shipped off to a padded white room where I never see my friends again and spend the rest of my days getting prodded, drugged, and electrocuted until I'm left drooling into the carpet until I croak?" She breathed, having rushed all of that one particular worry out with one breath.

Scrooge blinked. "Lena, lass, I highly doubt that's gonna happen."

"I know, I know, I'm just panicking over dumb stuff. It still worries me, ya know?"

Scrooge nodded, sipping his tea. "Aye, it can be scary starting out. How's yer room treatin' ye?"

"Better than the three-hots-and-a-cot at Juvie, and way better than a... than most places I've slept." Lena trailed off, fearing she'd gotten too personal. Old habits died hard.

Scrooge, however, didn't pry. "Listen, I want to tell ye-"

"If you thank me for saving Webby one more time, I will throw this tea at you. You've been thanking me all week and you're driving me batty," Lena interjected with a good-humored smile.

Scrooge shook his head. "Nah. I want to say that... you were very brave. Not just savin' Webby, but standing up to yer aunt. Must've... been hard is all."

Almost unconsciously, Lena clutched her cast again. "Sorry for... y'know, attacking you."

Scrooge shrugged. "Water under the bridge. I've forgotten it happened already."

Lena ground her teeth, and the question she'd been bottling up finally spilled out. "Why do you trust me? And don't say because I saved Webby, I became Webby's friend to betray all of you."

Without hesitation or breaking eye contact, Scrooge responded "That wasn't yer choice, it was yer aunt's."

Lena looked downward at her cast, in her lap. Her thumb ran over Webby's name. "But I'm a De Spell! I'm the niece of Magica De Spell! Doesn't that make me, I dunno... tainted? One bad apple ruins the bunch, and all that?"

"Child, look at me." Lena raised her eyes to meet Scrooge's, half expecting them to be filled with the anger and judgement she deserved.

Instead, his eyes were kind. "If there's anythin' I've grown to understand in the past six months, it's that family is... complicated." He shifted in his chair, staring out at the end of the backyard. "About two weeks ago, before all this, I said some awful things to the people I care about the most. I mean it, I shouted positively vile things in their faces, Webby included! And I can never take it back. Ten years ago, I helped someone important in my life do something so recklessly irresponsible, she..."

He paused, staring off into the distance as if he were

_-remembering long sleepless nights in a dark room in front of a control panel, never eating or sleeping, scanning the stars for just a tiny echo of a signal, repeating her callsign into the transmitter, hearing nothing back but static, static, static-_

thinking of something. "I don't know if she's alive or dead or what she is. She's gone, and it's my fault. I can apologize, I can help heal the wounds, but those awful things I've said and done are still out there."

Lena stared, transfixed. "Then... then what's even the point?"

Scrooge looked back at her. "Because I'm more than my faults. Everyone is. And the people you care about and who care about you know that. Lena, you are not responsible fer what yer aunt did. What she put ye through was an abomination, and you deserve better. But ye have to let yerself believe that first. Just know: you have so many people here who care about ye, and I'm happy tae call myself one of them."

Scrooge paused. "Anyhoo, sorry fer preachin' at ye."

Lena shook her head. "No, no... I think... I think I needed to hear that."

The two were silent for a moment. When Lena spoke again, it was very slowly and carefully. "I used to... love magic. I know you're not a fan, but me, when I was a little kid, learning I could do magic? It was like proof of everything that was good in the world, held in my hand."

Scrooge sat quietly, listening closely. Lena continued "And then, I found Magica. Well, I found her shadow-ghosty thing. And she lured me right in. She pretended to care, pretended to listen, she taught me spells and how to control them... she accepted me for me."

Lena sighed, a bitter exhale. "At least, I thought she did. She eventually convinced me to bind myself to her- she claimed it was symbolic, making me her apprentice. The second it was done, and I couldn't get away, everything she told me stopped. Everything became work, work, work, blood feud this, blood vengeance that. I eventually started hating magic because of it. Can you believe that? She took something I loved... something that I considered _me_ , and twisted it until I couldn't recognize it anymore."

Lena stared at her feet. "I was a kid. I was just a kid."

Scrooge nodded. "I know, lass. I know."

In the distance, the sparrow started singing again. Lena squinted into the rising sun. "What is that, opera? Who is that?"

"Ah, that's Walter Sparrow. He lives down the hill. He likes tae come out on his deck and practice his opera this time of mornin'-" Scrooge raised his voice, waving his cane in the air "- _AT THE CRACK A' DAWN WHEN PEOPLE R' TRYIN' TAE SLEEP!"_ Lena cackled loudly in her chair. In the distance, Walter Sparrow started singing even louder.

Scrooge turned to her again. "Now, Lena, I do have a question. And I want you tae know up front: this is not me interrogating ye, nor looking to pry or judge or cause trouble. If ye want me to drop the topic, just say the word and I promise I'll ne'er speak of it again."

Lena blinked. "Oh... kay?"

Scrooge sat back, his hands on the table. "I obviously can't do this until ye start going through puberty, but do ye want me to pay for HRT for ye?"

Lena froze. Her mind ran in twenty-five directions at once- panic, surprise, joy, and a thousand other emotions. Eventually, her brain and her mouth communicated enough for her to babble "I... wugh... ech... _how did you-"_

Scrooge shrugged. "Intuition, some questions from the doctor, plus I... may have some experience on the matter." He tapped the center of his chest with one finger. Lena stared for several seconds. Scrooge could almost see the calculus forming around her head. Suddenly, the hamster ball in Lena's brain starting rolling. Her lower beak dropped. " _You-"_

"Aye. Me. Since before the word to describe it existed."

Lena plopped back down in her chair. "Wow."

"Wow indeed, lass. Why do ye think I fund Duckburg Pride every year?"

"I didn't know- _DUCKBURG HAS A PRIDE PARADE?!!?"_

Scrooge laughed heartily. "Ah, I always love that reaction."

Lena clapped her hand to her face, not even feeling the bonk of her cast hitting her forehead. "Does anyone else know? About you, I mean."

"A few. Beakley, Duckworth, me parents. You don't know Goldie, but she knows. Webby probably knows, with how she researches. I know Glomgold knows-"

"Wait, what? The fat clod who keeps trying to kill you?"

"He found out by accident. Truth be told, I don't think he cares. It can't help him kill me, so it never really crosses his mind.”

"Still. Maximum yikes."

Scrooge chuckled. "Maximum yikes, I like that. So, do ye-" he was cut off by a sudden, crushing hug from Lena. She shouted, "Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes! Thank-you-thank-you-thank-you!"

Scrooge laughed, despite the ringing in his ear, and hugged his ward back. After some time, the hug broke, and Scrooge smiled at Lena. "So, lass: how do ye feel?"

Lena grinned back at him. "Fantastic."

Lena suddenly became aware of a growing buzzing noise, getting louder and nearer. Scrooge glanced up. "Ah, Launchpad's back."

The familiar shape of the _Sunchaser_ emerged from the glow of the rising sun, descending rapidly, far too quickly to be handled by any pilot except Launchpad McQuack. The ever-indestructible plane touched down roughly on the enormous backyard, spraying dirt and grass behind the wheels. It mowed over another flower bed, before impacting a grove of trees on the edge of the lawn, finally groaning to a stop. There was a pause, before the massive door at the back of the plane slammed open, and a mass of wood and lumber came crashing out in an enormous pile.

Lena threw her arms up in the air. "Mazel tov! It's a boy!"

With a mighty wheeze, Scrooge keeled over, cackling like a mad duck. His frame shuddered as giant, whooping laughs forced themselves from his beak. He briefly threw his hands up and made a noise that sounded vaguely like "Mazuhov izzaboye" before returning to his guffaws.

Launchpad emerged from the back of the plane, slowly picking his way over the spilled lumber. "Morning, Mr. McD! Couldn't find that lumberyard you wanted, so I snagged this bundle off a logging truck I found!" He paused. "What's so funny?"

Scrooge paused, still giggling, and said in a high-pitched wheeze, "Launchpad! Name it after meee!" He then doubled back over and continued laughing.

Behind her, Lena heard the glass door slide open again. Webby, summoned from her sleep by the sounds of crashing planes, morning opera, and uncontrollable mirth, stood there in her pajamas, rubbing sleep from her eyes. "Blarg... Lena? What's going on?"

Lena smiled, grabbed Webby in a tight hug, and planted a small kiss on her cheek. Webby blushed heavily, covering her face with her hands, a small, adorable squeal bubbling from her mouth. Lena looked out over the ruined backyard, with the crashed plane, spilled and stolen wood, confused pilot and cackling trillionaire. The sun was rising, bringing another beautiful morning to her new home.

**Author's Note:**

> After I finished With The Hand Of My Best Friend, I felt like Lena's story couldn't possibly be over yet. Eventually, this sequel started percolating in my head, and I just had to do something about it. And who knows, there might be more on the way!
> 
> This story is dedicated to a very close friend, who opened my mind on my birthday many years ago about the nature of gender, and who more recently, helped me realize that mistakes and faults don't define who we are. So Melody: this fic is for you.
> 
> Special thanks to F.D. Koshekh for her input and compelling discussions on this story when I had writer's block.
> 
> And a final note: if you skip author's notes, you automatically wind up on Santa's Naughty List. Because if you skip authors notes, you might miss little things, like how that night, Lena lay awake in her bed, staring at the ceiling. The light from the clock radio shone on her face, gently. The house was silent again. A thousand thousand thoughts filtered through Lena's head. 
> 
> Eventually, she came to a decision. 
> 
> She slid out of the comfy bed, and headed for the door. Creeping silently, she slunk through the halls of McDuck Manor, knowing exactly where she was going. 
> 
> Magica may have stolen several years of her life. But damned if she was gonna let Magica ruin everything from when she was young.
> 
> Lena reached Webby's door. Not wanting a repeat of last time, she rapped gently on the wood. A moment later, the door opened, Webby's sleepy face appearing. "Lena? What time is it? What's wrong."
> 
> Lena steeled herself. "Webby... do you still have that spellbook?"
> 
> A short minute later, Webby was sliding the hidden Grimoire du Merlock from the false book cover. She had kept the book hidden her trunk, even after the incident with Tiffany the Money Shark. Webby handed the book to her girlfriend. "Are you sure about this, Lena?"
> 
> Lena nodded. "I want to move forward. I want to grow. And this is my first step. I'm taking magic back from my aunt."
> 
> Lena sat down, crossing her legs, and opened the book. Webby knelt down in front of her, curious and eager.
> 
> It took a few minutes of leafing through pages, but Lena soon found what she was looking for. The first spell she had ever cast, when she was very small. She smiled a small smile at the memory. Webby leaned forward. "What is it?"
> 
> Lena smiled at her. "Turn off the lamp." Webby leaned to the side and clicked off her bedside lamp, leaving the room in darkness. Lena bent forward, and read from the page in her lap before her. Her hands and fingers moved in a specific pattern as she spoke.
> 
> "O' fireflies, Will-o-Whisp, creatures of night,  
> grant us your gift, and give us your sight!" 
> 
> A small ball of light appeared in Lena's outstretched hands. Webby's eyes grew wide, and she leaned forward. Lena leaned back, and tossed the ball into the air. It instantly dissipated into a hundred tiny specks of light. Webby's bedroom was lit by a gentle glow, as the pinpricks floated and shimmered like fireflies.
> 
> Lena reached out, taking Webby's hands in hers. Webby stared at Lena in amazement, an enormous grin on her face. 
> 
> Lena felt something unwind within her, and took a deep, deep breath. She let it out, feeling more than ever that things were gonna be okay.


End file.
